


Our Lives

by ZCreates (Zorav)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A whole bunch of things, Developing Relationship, Drabbles, Dreams vs. Reality, JJSeungWeek, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Rival Relationship, jjseung
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-17 03:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11843076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zorav/pseuds/ZCreates
Summary: They say that dreams are designed by the mind as a test - a mesh of the past, present and future that you have no control over. They're made up of people you've seen once, aspirations you once held of what you could be, the present reality you want to escape.To Seung Gil, dreams are nothing but fantasies - a cruel trick to make thoughts take form, scattered images compiled into a wanting that he can't outrun.A 9 part work for #JJSeungWeek. Expect some fun banter, an exasperated Seung Gil and a dynamic JJ who just really wants to cuddle.(1/1: On hold pending a zine's completion!)





	1. Day 0

**Author's Note:**

> A work for JJSeung Week, coming to you from August 25th through September 1st. Check it out on Twitter and Tumblr!

****Seung Gil was once fine with being alone. He’d far preferred the six degrees of separation that circled around him, an ever present barrier that protected him from the rest of the world and the world from him. Workaholic perfectionist that he was, he’d never bothered to question that instinct. It certainly had never struck him as being wrong.

Along this road, he’d been called plenty of things - cold, uncompromising, unsavory - but it wasn’t ever enough to guilt him into staying. Logic always dictated that there wasn’t a point in stretching out those momentary lapses in judgment. They were just physical relations that could be compartmentalized into a need with no relation to any particular emotion. It was simple - something to do and remove from mind - to walk away from when things staled or started flashing warning signs. Relationships were unnecessary complications, too problematic and uncontrollable, too unlike him to get involved.

As he skated and started travelling the world, he’d valued that sense of space more and more. No one could convince him that he should’ve felt differently, that having ‘someone’ to nurse away the long nights would be anything less than troublesome. He found a sense of solace in the gently sloping evenings where he’d walk the streets without being bothered, the stuttered slow starts on mornings where he’d curl up at the foot his bed with a book and his dog. He liked not being a heartsick teenager stuck on some drawn out fantasy, appreciated that he only had to deal with his own problems. Most of all, he revelled in being his own person with an unclouded vision of who he was.

The story his life told was unyielding and characteristically quiet up until _him_. When the chapter changed, suddenly labelled with a title he didn’t understand, he wanted to close the pages and toss the book into the flames so nothing more could come of it. The words in front of him were entirely about this stranger, and how the life he’d lived up until that moment was ripped apart by the hands that refused to let him go. This new tale felt like fitting into a skin that wasn’t his, something that wasn’t written by him but by the man who was intent on making sure he didn’t forget his existence; the feel of it was razor sharp in his memory, almost as if his name was branded into Seung Gil’s skin.

At first, he detested it, rebelled at the invasive noise that filtered through his world. He didn’t know how to adjust, but this man never made it a question of if he wanted the presence, didn’t give him a chance to retreat back into his shell. To him, it was absolute; it was that moment, now, them, together, the burning of exploding ice that cut into his palms. It was the pain of it that reminded him of how to feel with every motion, how to breathe when his throat burned from the fire that burned around him.

It was only when he’d reached the start of the next chapter - when the man would wake in a different bed halfway across the world - that Seung Gil realized he no longer liked being alone. Here, from his spot where he’d always be, where he slept was bigger than it’d ever been before, the space in his apartment living room in Korea too large for the sparse amount of furniture within. The mornings were empty without the presence of unrelenting laughter, the midnight strolls that had become filled with maddening whispers instead almost uncomfortable.

He found himself making mistakes out of his own habit. It was an extra glass of tea poured in the morning, a question he started to ask to the air behind him while dressing for the day. It was walking through the door expecting to see the gym bag on the chair, wanting to wake up with the warmth curled around him. It was finishing a new routine to search for the ever-present gaze, a spot that he now found empty at the side of the rink. They were simple actions, inane but honest, a truth that he couldn’t wrap his head around.

It scared him that they were mistakes that he desperately didn't want to lose the feeling of.

He thought about it too - what it would mean for things to go back to where they’d been before his story had started to change. In the end, he saw what the books he’d read always spoke of - the fascination and fixation that came with feelings - and began to recognize how he’d changed. It was the same dependence that he’d fought to run away from that had come to take over his life without asking for permission. It wanted Seung Gil and had him, contained him in that harsh reality that said he was irrevocably captured by his own whims.

It was then, when he’d just begun to think that only the solace of sleep would rescue him from the weight of loneliness, that the dreams began.

* * *

**_JL_ ** _: Good night, princess._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested in participating, please take a look at the details for the week! The rest of this fic will be posted, with one section per day. 
> 
> The rest of the prompts are:  
> Day 1: SLICE OF LIFE  
> Day 2: PETS  
> Day 3: INSTAGRAM  
> Day 4: FASHION  
> Day 5: DISTANCE/DIFFERENCES  
> Day 6: RINKMATES/RIVALRY  
> Day 7: FANTASY/SUPERNATURAL AU  
> +  
> Day 8: OPEN
> 
> As one of the mods, I encourage you to have fun with it! Definitely tag the week's twitter/Tumblr, and we'll retweet/reblog your work. <3
> 
> Happy writing/arting all. :D


	2. Dream 1 - Melon-Fu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung Gil falls into something familiar - a hunger and a past he doesn't want to escape.

Real life wasn't composed of the moments that regularly stole your breath away. It was mostly filler - eating, sleeping, exercising - a composite picture that defined the existence he had sculpted for himself. Seung Gil had no problem that his life was made up of uneventful actions between his traveling and skating. It was just life, after all, and there was no reason to expect it to be as grand and extravagant as some fairy tale.

There were, of course, those moments that were designed to be bigger, be better as they evolved from a simple action to a resonating memory. Those things were the ones that were experienced once and relived a thousand times, meant to fuel desire for the duration of a lifetime after a single taste. He had those too, though he chose not to dwell on them. Just like looking back on failures, getting trapped by staring at success was pointless.

This day was not one designed to take any breath away. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The sun was dulled by the clouds, the sky dark with the promise of rain, the air just a touch too warm. He expected nothing from it and wanted even less. It would just be another day to tuck away in the journal of the unremarkable.

He knew all of these things when his attention snapped back into the present, a strangled ache reminding him that this was not an unremarkable day - it was, frankly, a miserable one. Miserable because he was _pitifully_ hungry - a sensation he detested for a number of reasons - and it was entirely _his_ fault.

It wasn’t just a normal hunger - it was the type of hunger that started in the pit of your stomach and crawled through you at a creeping pace, finding your core and pulling at it until you were reminded of the sensation with every breath. It was the kind of hunger that didn’t leave you alone even when you pushed it away, one that whispered in your ear until it finally got whatever it wanted.

Feeling so starved was unusual for that notion alone. Seung Gil had a schedule, a regimen that kept him both fit, occupied and otherwise not tempted by any random delicacy he saw on the street. It was an equation - pure and simple - and the math of it never let him get to the point of craving. Despite that, there he was, mouth watering over things he’d normally not give a second thought. After the third food stand he passed going home, he decided that he’d have to put off the plans his ridiculous friend had proposed and try to do things that real people did on a Friday evening.

That’s when he found himself in front of the grocery store, having pushed away the avalanche of hunger with a few small crackers he’d found in his barren pantry. With how often he’d been out of his own apartment recently, he knew he’d been slacking in the routine. His bank account was happy to confirm that he hadn’t been on a food run in almost three weeks. He was even out of ramen after a solid week of late nights where he’d stumbled in needing something, _anything,_ to fill his stomach before crashing on his bed.

As of recent, his life had been different, colorfully dappled with strange midnight outings, eccentric choices for food, loud conversations and things that were entirely unplanned. He couldn’t decide if he missed his old lifestyle, where there was a structure to everything he did, or if this was something that was good for him. His coach insisted it was good for him to have more friends than just his dog, and his parents were excited that he had fallen into the good graces of the skating king of Canada. But what did it mean for him?

It troubled him that he had to think about what the answer was.

He sighed as he grabbed a cart and wheeled it in. His breaks from his routine needed to stop with the skating season so close to being upon him. He couldn’t afford it, even if the distraction was arguably amusing.

As he placed the random items from the list into his cart, he couldn’t place how grocery shopping could give him this ridiculous sense of déjà vu. Maybe it was the fact that he was eating far too much ramen these days, but that couldn’t explain the sinking feeling in his chest. It was telling with the way his brain was suddenly expecting something to happen, preparing for the inevitable.

When his shoulder was grabbed, being pulled sideways in a friendly hug, he remembered a flash of what this was, an almost sickening relief in understanding why he felt this way. He knew this moment, had it in his life as a moment that was always with him. That this was no ordinary day at all.

Jean-Jacques Leroy was standing beside him, arm still lazily around his waist that he’d clearly forgotten he didn’t have permission to touch. “I came by your apartment.”

Seung Gil moved sharply to the right, managing to lose the arm as the taller man moved to follow him. “That’s a nice story,” he noted, part greeting and part warning.

He could almost see the pout on the Canadian’s face without looking at him. “You’re not interested to hear the rest?”

Seung Gil scowled as he studied the boxes of cereal in front of him. “Is it going to involve breaking into my apartment again?”

“Breaking in?” Jean laughed, the sound echoing in Seung Gil’s ears. “You gave me a key. Can you grab some Cinnamon Toast? All of your other weird Korean brands taste like they forgot what sugar was.”

“No,” he tried, before Jean moved around him and dropped the box into his cart anyway, flashing him a smile that did just as it was intended - Seung Gil left the box of cereal where it was while grumbling out a Korean curse. He swatted at the arm that tried to loop around his shoulders. “Do you remember why I gave you a key?”

“Scandalous midnight rendezvous.” Jean caught his glare and winced. “Yes, I remember; you don’t need to -”

“I was tired of you locking yourself out on accident,” he noted, noting that he’d have to wind back around to grab some soju if this kept up.

“I was getting to that part - I didn’t need you to remind me of it.” He couldn’t be sure if Jean was trying to get him to change his locks or not. “Your door is just so frustrating. Why would it twist in that direction?”

“Stop coming to my apartment,” Seung Gil offered, again walking away but slowing down a tiny bit so that the nuisance could catch up after a few brisk steps.

“I go there to see you - you’re my favorite skater in Korea.”

“I’m the only skater you know in Korea,” he said, checking off another item on the list he’d made on his phone.

“Sorry, you’re my favorite _person_ in Korea.”

“Nice try,” he sighed, finding the soju and adding it to his cart. He’d decided it might be necessary to get through the night after all.  “Couldn’t you find one of your fans to fawn over?”

“They wouldn’t glare at me like you do.” He grinned. “Yes, just like that.”

He sighed, checking the list he’d made again and heading down an aisle. “Why are you here?”

“You suddenly cancelled our plans at the last minute and stopped responding to your phone.”

“ _Your_ plans.”

“Ours,” Jean insisted, grabbing something else off the shelf that definitely was not on Seung Gil’s list. Seung Gil grabbed the bokbunja ju drink and replaced it while Jean continued to pout at being refused. “I was worried. It’s hardly my style to leave a friend in trouble hanging.”

“When were we friends? And if you say ‘JJ Style,’ I’m forcing you to pay rent and for all the alcohol you drink,” he noted, waving a hand warningly as Jean reached for the bottle again.

“I just said I was worried about you, snowflake.”

He paused just long enough to study the man’s face, hating the strong lines that made up his handsome features. There were just enough brain cells not consumed by hunger to accusingly narrow his eyes. “You mean you were bored.”

The Canadian skater’s expression turned somewhat sheepish. “I can’t understand Korean dramas.”

Seung Gil raised an eyebrow. “You have Netflix.”

Jean ran a hand through his undercut, muscles flexing as he tried to be casual. “I think I went through almost all of Netflix as post-breakup collateral.”

That was a territory Seung Gil had no desire to talk about. It had always made him feel uncomfortable and oddly protective at the same time, and both were things he had little patience for. “I’ve been meaning to ask - why is your training regimen on my refrigerator?”

“Why not? I’m at your place often enough.” JJ shifted through the melons, tapping each of them. “You should do that Asian magic melon-fu thing with the tapping. I see it online all the time.”

Seung Gil paused, remembering his mom doing it in the past. He had honestly no idea how it went. “You mean finding out if it’s ripe?”

“Amaze me with your skills, princess,” Jean said while steering him toward the melon selection.

“Who said I wanted a melon?”

“I did when I decided I was eating dinner with you.”

He had already known Jean would insist on coming, and he’d purposefully pulled double portions of everything. “If I tap a melon, will you inform me of why your training regimen is on the refrigerator?”

Jean leaned over his shoulder as they both stared at the cream-colored fruit. “So you can plan for our date nights, obviously.”

He froze, halfway into reaching for a melon. “Date nights?”

“Yes, on Thursdays,” Jean sing songed, arm again wrapped around Seung Gil’s shoulder as if it’d always been meant to be there.

He wrinkled his nose as he recalled his schedule and the times where things overlapped between their exercise agendas. “We train on Thursdays.”

A visible pout was starting on Jean’s face. “That is not a date.”

“Who said I wanted a date?”

“Who said you didn’t?”

Seung Gil muttered another curse under his breath, and briefly wondered when he’d started to curse so often. “Isn’t a date just two people at the same place at once?”

Jean raised an eyebrow, offering an offended look that resembled a child who’d just been told his favorite TV show character couldn’t come to his birthday party. “That’s so cheap. I won’t accept a date like that.”

Seung Gil rapped on a melon, then another, frowning as he couldn’t hear the difference between them, then offered one that seemed good enough. “You keep saying date - who are you dating?”

Jean took the melon out of his hands. “You, princess, you.” Seung Gil raised an eyebrow. “Or at least I hope to. If not, this just got really weird, didn’t it?”

Seung Gil knew all of this had all happened already: a year ago on a warm Friday evening. There was a polaroid that Jean had taken of the day pinned to his mirror, pointedly superglued after he’d tried to take it down too many times. It was one of those moments that turned into something more. This was the day that Jean had asked him to stay.

Seung Gil slowly took the cart back from the blue-eyed man, and let out a breath he’d shoved away. “I’m starving - you coming?”

* * *

 **SL** : Are you there?

 **JL** : shouldn’t you be asleep - its like 6am

 **SL** : Do you remember that polaroid?

 **JL** : i know youre crazy in the morning but dont think about removing it

 **SL** : You superglued it to my mirror.

 **JL** : making sure you dont forget

 **SL** : I’m going back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first part of JJSeung Week (Slice of Life). A little bit (err) of fluff. The only scene that'll be based on past events, though. :)
> 
> As a reminder, JJSeung Week is going from Aug. 25th to Sept. 1st. Check out the Twitter at @JJSeungWeek. If you have works, tag them with #jjseungweek17 or #jjseungweek2017.
> 
> Comment and let me know what you thought! (And I managed to keep it to EXACTLY 2k, as per the challenge that started up between some of us long-winded writers.)


	3. Dream 2 - Master of Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in his dreams, Jean won't listen to him, and Seung Gil's just learned to follow the Canadian's way of doing things. This time, he's stubborn, has Seung Gil where he wants him, and he really wants this cat.

He wasn’t sure why it’d surprised him that Jean was a cat person. His more sociable partner had always been good with animals in general - in fact, he was an easy favorite with his loud but gentle personality. 

While his attitude sometimes repelled their human counterparts, most animals took it as a sign of everlasting affection. Seung Gil didn’t need to look far for proof of that statement; Noeul, the dog he’d had since she was just a tiny puppy, quickly learned that the stranger her owner had started to bring home was far more easily convinced to drop everything to do what she wanted. His cuddly husky was arguably more excited to see the man than he was sometimes, and there was something to be said about that.

If there was anything to be learned about Jean, it was that he was a sucker for trying to give back. Despite his sometimes overbearing traits, he held a true soft spot for anything with the word “charity” attached to it. It was actually bad enough that Seung Gil was constantly concerned that he’d give away everything he owned without so much as a second thought. 

In Canada, Seung Gil was often dragged on these well-meaning adventures when they weren’t training or actively on the rink. It was a bit of a toss up as to what they’d do - they’d build houses, help in soup kitchens in the colder weather, teach children how to skate at local rinks across the country. It sometimes felt random, like Jean just wanted a new experience, and after some initial discomfort, Seung Gil learned to appreciate it. 

Jean, as per his personality, was relentless and driven, always looking for the next way to make a difference. While Seung Gil didn’t feel the same initial desire, he saw the good his significant other did, the lives he impacted, and followed along just to watch it. Somewhere down the line he knew Jean had changed his opinion; his vision was dangerously contagious, and he couldn’t help but be swept up in the motions.

When they weren’t in Jean’s native country, this routine became a different problem. As much as Jean wanted to go out and help, he no longer had the same connections, faced instead with a language barrier. What were tasks he’d do in his own country with ease turned into hurdles. Seung Gil could feel the dark disappointment when Jean admitted defeat, saying he could probably read a book or learn to knit. While Seung Gil didn’t necessarily disagree with the former sentiment - there were plenty of books on his shelf that were long forgotten - he couldn’t deal with a disappointed Jean-Jacques Leroy.

When Seung Gil suggested the first thing that came to mind, he was entirely unprepared for the suffocating sunshine that hit him, a display of gratitude that he never quite got used to. He wasn’t sure if it was more about the fact that Jean wanted the opportunity, or that he’d been the one suggesting they did something together. The self-pronounced king was obsessive about wanting to do things ‘as a couple’, dragging him along as if he always knew what was best for him.

To be fair, Seung Gil did have to admit that Jean usually  _ did _ know what was best for him far before he realized it himself. Before Jean, he’d never experienced life in the same way, where now he had both the colorful moments and the quiet.

When he made the suggestion, there was a nagging voice that said he’d had a moment to pick another path, to adjust who they could potentially be, to let Seung Gil retreat back into his own comfort zone. It was odd that, while knowing it was an option, he let it go, surprising even himself. He wanted Jean to do the things he enjoyed, and he wanted to go with him. It was a slow but absolute realization that mocked him, reminding him of how he’d fallen into the Canadian’s trap. 

That’s how their frequent trips to the pet shelters began.

It seemed, even with charity, they never could get away from the spotlight. On this particular outing, Jean had been stopped for the third time that day to take a picture with another fan, happily posing with an animal and signing whatever they wished. Seung Gil only raised his eyebrows before tucking himself into another row of kennels, moving toward the end of the lane while studying the placards to find a dog needing some fresh air. He’d been roped into enough fan pictures to know that running away before it got too bad was usually for the best. 

It was still incredible to him how Jean had spun his fame into giving back, especially after how he’d been so dismayed about it before. When the world had found out the two skaters were helping out at shelters, it had gone from a fan posting to a news headline. It had quickly become a competition on the internet, as some of their more social media-savvy skater friends had discovered, to catch either of them with the animals. It had taken all of a fortnight for Jean to twist it in his favor: he’d announced that he’d sign anything that came his way so long as the fans came and volunteered their time or made a donation, and he’d take a picture for the ongoing trend. 

With that, they’d both quickly learned that it was near to impossible to do much at the shelters, as people flocked in to get a few photos of the world-renowned skater cuddling with animals. Jean mostly worked with the cats on the staff’s suggestion - socializing them as the fans snapped away - and Seung Gil stuck to the dog walking, only occasionally crossing paths with his usually fan-mobbed partner.

It was a win-win for everyone but Seung Gil. As much as he liked that they were doing good, the incessant fawning over his boyfriend sometimes drove him up a wall. The possessiveness surprised him - he’d never counted himself as the type - but there it was, coloring these trips with a wicked annoyance.

Jean finally managed to escape the wave of fans by the time Seung Gil had pulled a German Shepard mix out of its cage, walked it around the neighboring area and started looping back around. For once, the walk was quiet, most likely due to Jean hogging the attention inside, but it let him breathe. While Jean had a tolerance for it that seemed infinite, he found himself cracking with little provocation when the cameras were aimed at him.

For their walk, the dog hadn’t stayed still, twirling in circles and trying to yank its way off the leash. He’d sighed and tugged the dog back, praising it when it followed the instruction, before being nearly jerked off of his feet repeatedly as the dog saw something in the air and dashed after it. 

When he’d neared the building, he found Jean laughing at him as he struggled to get the dog from taking off with him again, the creature sensing that the walk was coming to an end as it saw the doors it clearly associated with something akin to jail time. “I’d think you’d be used to it.”

“Noeul doesn’t do that,” Seung Gil responded, handing the leash over when Jean extended a hand, clearly amused as the dog bounded over to him.

Jean grinned widely, curling his fingers through the fluff behind the large dog’s ears. “That’s because yours truly walks her every day.”

“Why thank you, your highness,” he grumbled out, opening the door for both of them. 

“I am a king,” Jean hummed as he reached out with his free hand, running a finger underneath Seung Gil’s chin. The action was just enough to send a shiver down his spin involuntarily.

“How many times have I told you not to call yourself that?”

Jean raised an eyebrow, motioning once to the maze of cages, and Seung Gil breathed out through his nose, stepping ahead of him to lead him to the row of kennels the dog belonged in. “You started it.”

Seung Gil frowned as he grabbed a treat, asking the dog to sit before handing it over. He turned to his partner with a frown. “Are you a child?”

“Maybe,” he noted as he latched the door closed, cooing at the dog that looked pitifully sad that Jean was leaving him, despite the fact that Seung Gil had been the one to walk him. “So, I have news.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” Hanging up the leash, he grabbed Seung Gil’s hand and began to drag him along. “I have found the perfect cat.”

Seung Gil blinked, barely not tripping over his own feet as Jean barrelled along. “You what.”

“The perfect cat! I’ve found him. It’ll make me internet famous.”

“You’re already internet famous, you buffoon,” Seung Gil grated, shaking his hand lose before Jean decided to do something ridiculous.

Jean skidded to a halt in front of the second section of cats, opening a cage to a cat that was as mass of long fur. He curled the creature in his arms, rubbing under the creature's chin. There was no denying that the cat was utterly delighted. “I’m naming him Chester.”

Seung Gil narrowed his eyes, glancing at the sign of its cage. “You can’t name him.”

“Why not?”

“He has a name.”

“Kitten is not an appropriate name for such a regal creature.”

He couldn’t really argue with that. “Naming rights go to its next owner.”

Those sky blue eyes turned to him, the line between persuasion and flat out pleading crossed before he could register what was happening. “Seung Gil…”

He knew that petulant look. “ _ No. _ ”

“Look at this face.” Seung Gil rubbed his temple. “No really, look at this face.”

“The creature is acceptably furry.”

Jean scoffed, cooing even louder at the purring cat. He was half sure the two were having a match of who could voice their affection louder. “You’re made out of ice.”

“We’re in Korea. You can’t just fly the cat back to Canada.”

Jean met his gaze and almost chirped at him, and before he responded, Seung Gil knew he was doomed. That look, as it was, was rarely wrong. “I’m not.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll just move in with you. Noeul likes cats. Chester likes dogs. It’s perfect.”

“Hold on,” Seung Gil tapped Jean’s cheek in an pointless attempt to get the man to focus. “Did you just invite yourself to move in?”

“What if I did?”

After this long, he wasn’t even mad. “Isn’t that my choice? It’s my apartment.”

“Princess, we live at each other’s places when we’re travelling.” His eyes were amused as he settled the cat against his shoulder and ran comforting hands across its coat. It unsurprisingly seemed to relax in his hands, curling up in the crook of his neck. Seung Gil narrowed his eyes at that - some things were actually just unfair. “What would you call having a dresser in your place?”

“Visiting,” Seung Gil noted, grimacing as he already knew the outcome of all of this.

“And I’m saying I don’t want to be ‘just visiting’ anymore,” Jean noted as he set the cat back down in the cage. It nuzzled his hands expectantly, and Seung Gil could see the resolve in his partner’s face.

“Who gave you that option?”

“I did?” Jean turned partly to him. “So we’re getting Chester, right?”

By the end of the their stay, much to the internet’s rejoicing, Chester had found himself a new home, and Seung Gil officially had two new roommates.

* * *

 

**SL** : Are you sure you’re a cat person?

**JL** : is this a trick question

**SL** : Noeul won’t be offended.

**JL** : i bat for the cat team

**SL** : Do you read your texts before you send them?

**JL** : i trust you to accept me the way i am

**SL** : As an idiot, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's National Dog Day on the same day as the Pet prompt for JJSeung Week! It's almost like we planned it. (I'll admit that I completely forgot.)
> 
> Here's #3... another exact 2,000 word piece. I really don't know how I'm managing to do this.
> 
> I know this one was a bit rougher than my standard - the ones after this are a bit cleaner... this was just a weird piece that went from narrative to dialogue really sharply, haha. Jean is totally a cat person in my head.
> 
> I hope you liked it anyway. 3/9 done!


End file.
